a dance of flame and forest
by magma maiden
Summary: a madara/fem!hashirama drabble collection. non linear.
1. archenemy

**naruto (c) masashi kishimoto, no profit gained from this fic**

 **I like the idea of Madara/fem!Hashirama, so I wrote down some drabbles and decided to crosspost it from AO3. Non-linear, may explore canon theme several times and may contain AUs. None of these drabbles are related to each other unless i say otherwise.**

* * *

.

"I will destroy what you built."

They no longer skipped stones or sparred or ran; those were the dreams of her childhood, eerily quiet days between the clashes of blades. She still dreamed they could go back to that day, but her brother would tell her to stop dreaming and act properly as a leader of the Senju.

She returned his greeting by bringing forth a forest. Its roots and branches shot forward, grasping for a lone wandering leaf across the river.

He dodged them all. She knew. He took a deep breath. She knew. When his fire spread wild and massive, she was prepared with a wooden dome. They had fought too much and too often to her liking; her entire body and forest knew well how he dance.

They were equal after all.

[ "How symbolic," he commented in the past once, in the battlefield, already forsaking whatever bond she tried to salvage between them. "Fire is the archenemy of the forest. What can you do against a hundred of Uchiha?" ]

They clashed blades again, and she saw madness in his (brother's) eyes. Perhaps her brother and heir had been true, but she refused to believe it.

"If you destroy what I build," the first Hokage screamed back, her hair flared with chakra. "I will rebuild and regrow my forest."

Even if it means I have to bury a dearest person in its soil.


	2. fire's shadow

naruto (c) masashi kishimoto, no profit gained from this fic

* * *

.

 _'Fire Shadow'? That's lame._

It was just fitting for him. The fire who protects Fire Country from the shadows. She carved the title with him in mind; unyielding flame that raged through everything who stood on his path.

 _This is your dream, Sister. It's just fitting for you to be the first who bear the title Hokage._

She smiled through the ceremony and countless people congratulating her. It's just a name, just a title, she told herself. The job that followed was more important.

 _Congratulations_. Madara's handshake was firm and his words were cold. He was there as a courtesy, not as a friend. Tobirama's ever-watchful eyes never quite leaving him, and her laugh was devoid of mirth.

As Hashirama watched him going from the party early, she thought perhaps Hokage did not refer to the fire in the shadows. It is the shadow of a fire blazing so bright that it burned anything and anyone under his gaze.

(and as she pulled her blade from his lifeless body, she knew she had burned along with him)


	3. mutually assured destruction

naruto (c) masashi kishimoto, no profit gained from this fic

mild gore ahead

* * *

.

their eyes spoke of betrayal. his was expected, hers unforeseen.

"you..." he growled, knees barely able to support his weight and plates of steel that made up his defense. "what the hell did you do?"

"you said I'm too naive," the hokage whispered, louder than the roaring waterfall behind them. her face was as stiff as a wooden mask. "you said I ought to suspect people, even the ones closest to me."

his susano'o flickered, dying. its owner immobilized, muscles and bones gripped by an unseen force of nature, preventing him from taking another step, from making another seal. the blue giant swung his sword before it was gone in smoke, a last attempt to attack but easily deflected by her wooden dome.

"the hell you did to me, hashirama!?"

she climbed up the cliff, facing her opponent-and-rival-and-enemy-and-friend-and-so much more. "I let my seeds grow, that is all."

"how-" his question swallowed by a choke. his shoulder plate cracked, showing a tree sapling growing slow but strong. its leaves drenched with blood.

"how long we've been living together?" she asked back, her sword fell from her calloused hand with a clatter. "how many days I started with seeing you lying by my side? I did everything I could to make you happy. but you fell anyway, madara, so I have to take precautions to defend my village."

his teeth gritted, his breath getting heavier. his sharingan reactivated; a brutal roar escaped his mouth as he mustered the last of his strength and charged towards her. the hokage closed her eyes, one hand formed a half seal, and his movement once more halted.

she closed the distance between them until their foreheads met. more little trees grew from his skin, drinking his chakra rapidly. she placed her arms on his shoulders, her fingers intertwined into a snake seal behind madara's head.

"I will not let you destroy konoha."

as blood bathed forest bloomed from his body, hashirama broke the first rule of fighting an uchiha:

she looked into his eyes.


	4. cycle

naruto (c) masashi kishimoto, no profit gained from this fic

* * *

.

the forest needs to grow and regrow when he dances, fiery wings spreading from east to west;

but she has to die and reborn each time, every time; roots to leaves; sucking up all the chakra offered by the flames before he consumes it all greedily;

the cycle knows no end, so they endure;

because at the end of the day, they are shinobi.


	5. growing strong

**an AR**

* * *

.

"remind me again why we are here."

they sat on a bench atop a small hill, under a black pine tree, shielding themselves from the sun. large ricefields spread as far as their eyes could see, where farmers were gathering their harvest.

hashirama tilted her head, lifting the cloth around her hokage hat to see his face. "i want to observe the harvest and you insisted to go with me even though i said you can just rest in the pavilion."

"i'm your only guard," madara grumbled. he was sweating heavily, despite not wearing his regular armor. "your lovely brother would replace me the moment he knew something happened to you. can't risk that."

"you're sweating," she pointed out bluntly. "why don't you borrow their cone hat?"

"it's obstructing my view."

"so is your hair."

madara growled, crossing his arms.

"let me tie it," she offered.

"no need."

hashirama pouted, resting her chin on her palms.

"alright, do it," he sighed, shifting on the bench so his back was facing her. when he felt pressures on his scalp, he muttered, "...you brought a comb?"

"mhm." she carefully parted his tangled strands until she could run her fingers smoothly.

"...be quick."

once madara's hair was tied into a ponytail, she asked, "feels better, right?"

he poked it, huffing.

they walked back to the pavilion, passing the farmers who often paused to bow to the hokage.

"it's prosperous, this village," she commented to him. "their people will be a great addition for konoha."

"we should move the entire village to adjacent lands around konoha."

she furrowed her eyebrows, shocked. "we shouldn't force them. let them decide on their own. we need their farming skill as much as they need our protection from bandits."

"can't you grow the vegetables yourself?"

"you know i can't," hashirama chuckled. "besides, even if i could, i don't want people to rely too much on me. what will they eat after i passed away? this mokuton... i doubt it'll pass to my future children."

madara looked like he was about to say something, but he chose to look at the harvested lands instead. "i see."

as hashirama chatted with the villagers during their harvest feast, madara remained in a corner, observing her. he wondered if there is a way to make mokuton able to grow crops. that way, they wouldn't have to ask for help from civilians.

but he remembered her words earlier, and realized she wouldn't agree to it.


	6. these eyes are

**#jumblingjuly2017 - fear**

* * *

.

"i hate you.

stop smiling as if the world basks under your fucking light.

you burn our eyes.

.

you burn me

through and through.

.

good.

turn your back away and let me just

perish quietly.

.

it's so blinding, hashirama.

.

don't bother.

.

these eyes are dead."

* * *

.

"i know you always see my back.

stop running when i do see you.

you carve a hole in my life.

.

you pull me

through time and distance.

.

you always wait until i turn away

to watch the sunset.

i know you long for its warmth

.

for the moon cannot shine without its sun,

madara.

.

those eyes of yours shall be alive

again."


	7. cursed

**#jumblingjuly2017 - prized possession; AR; angst ahead**

* * *

.

"kumo is far," she mumbled, tightening the straps of his armor. "almost two weeks journey on foot."

"that shouldn't be a problem," he replied short, his voice gruff.

"the daimyo requesting for you _is_ the problem," she pressed on. "i should've refused it..."

"it's not a problem, hashirama. i haven't had faraway missions for decades." he turned around. "where are the gloves...?"

hashirama searched the chest in their bedroom until she found a pair of old black gloves. "here." she placed them on his opened palm. "but this is war between the fire and lightning countries, madara. kumo is going all out."

"aren't we also going all out?" madara asked back calmly, taking his gunbai from the wall. "you're sending your strongest shinobi to lead the army."

"because the daimyo said their army will cower in fear just by hearing your name." hashirama wore her hokage hat. "i'd lead our army myself if i could..."

madara studied her face, shadowed by her hat and responsibilities. "an empty hokage seat is like an unguarded coffer. with tobirama patrolling the borders, one of us has to remain behind."

they left the hokage building to join the army gathering by the main gate. both were swept into their respective roles; checking the supplies, hearing the latest information from the intelligence, rechecking mobilization plans and addressing the entire army. when they met again, it was time to depart.

"madara, we're not young anymore," she whispered discreetly. his hair was graying, thin creases had marked his pale feature. she touched his chest plate. "please be careful."

he took her hand. "i will."

"here." hashirama unclasped her pendant, a shard of emerald flanked by two silver circles "i want you to have this."

madara swept his long hair aside after she set the necklace around his neck, its emerald hidden beneath the plate. "thank you." he lifted her hat a little, planting a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. "time to go."

.

.

.

days became weeks and weeks became months when hashirama found herself at the gate again by dawn, listening to muffled sobs from tsunade's lips. her granddaughter was clutching a chipped emerald pendant.

and upon the hokage's feet, was his blood soaked armor.

(his army brought no body home)


	8. apparition

**AR**

* * *

.

the eyes that stared back at her were purple. she rubbed her own, blinking, only to find the window was empty.

someone's breath condensed on its glass.

there's only one person who could pass her guards with an effortless ease. and he's dead.

.

she was among his clansmen, talking with the kids and young shinobi. amidst the blacks and reds, she found an odd pair stood out.

they were purple.

alarmed, she straightened her back, seeking among the crowd. but he's gone.

"lady hokage, the sharingan is always red," said an elderly when she asked the whereabouts of those purple eyes.

she decided she should consult the scrolls.

.

she sat facing the window of her office, occasionally glancing up from her scroll to see her village. roofs and leaves shimmering under the moonlight. she continued reading until she felt a presence. her body was trembling when she lifted her head.

her heart almost stopped.

he was kneeling on the roof, like a samurai before his master, staring into her dark eyes with his purple. his lips formed words soundlessly, greeting her.

"i killed you!" hashirama shouted, rising to touch the glass window where his gloved hand touched. he looked solid, unlike an apparition. the office door opened, prompting her to turn around.

her brother entered. "sister?"

"tobirama, look-" hashirama pointed at the window, but only the village view greeted her sight. "he was here- i swear-"

he picked up the scroll she dropped. "madara is dead."

"i know, but-"

"you killed him. i buried him." tobirama pulled her into a hug.

"no-"

"he's gone, sister. he's gone."

.

when she lay in the darkness of her bedroom, eyes swollen and body exhausted, hashirama found that she wasn't alone.

a pair of purple eyes manifested beside her pillow, descending upon her as a solid figure materialized from utter darkness.

"i'm home, hashirama."

madara's kisses were ashes.


	9. awkward

**chapter 649 AR/crack**

 **good god, two updates in one day and the other is a crack**

* * *

.

"grandmother!"

hashirama beamed seeing her granddaughter arriving at the battlefield, accompanied by four others whom she assumed to be the other kage. the yamanaka girl behind the first hokage subsequently announced their arrival using her jutsu.

"tsuna!" her smile turned into a worried expression upon seeing tsunade's condition. her clothes were in tatters. "what happened to you? where were you...?"

tsunade knelt beside her resurrected grandmother. "i-the five kage, we had to face madara..." she bared her teeth. "he toyed with us and left us in near death state-"

"what?" if hashirama had a living body, her heart would've stopped.

"-if help didn't come, I'd have died being bisected by a gigantic trunk."

hashirama abruptly rose, causing yamanaka to stumble although she managed to keep her hand on the woman's head. "madara!" she roared, facing the hill where that man sat waiting, "you almost killed our granddaughter!"

"grandmother..." tsunade whispered, "but that's impossible..."

"of course it's not impossible!" hashirama yelled out of anger. "before that battle in the valley, we had-"

the yamanaka girl shrieked, blood flowing from her nose as she fainted. tsunade's face turned deep red, mouth agape. several shinobi around them turned to stare wide eyed at hashirama, their nose bleeding; some even fainted like yamanaka.

"...ah," hashirama just realized her mistake.

someone landed nearby, their form hidden beneath the cloud of dust caused by the impact. madara stepped out, cautiously approaching the women, his face unreadable. "is that true," he asked coldly, "that i have a granddaughter?"

"whom you almost killed!"

he stopped few meters away, scowling. "you never told me you were pregnant!"

"how the heck was I supposed to tell you when you were busy trying to destroy the village we dreamed of?" hashirama yelled back.

tsunade hid her face in her hands and muttered, "for sage's sake, this is so awkward."

madara threw his gunbai away, growling, "you should've told me!"

"you're a criminal and i was already married when i found out! my husband agreed to keep it secret, even from tobira-"

a blue-white shadow passed them, kicking madara in the face, then returning to hashirama's side, screaming, "how come you kept it secret from me, ane-ue?"

"your reaction is why i never told you!" hashirama wiped blood from his nose. tobirama winced.

madara's resurrected body healed, then he proceeded to return the punch to tobirama. hashirama groaned as they resorted to fist fighting. tsunade sat on the ground, still hiding her face in her hands.

"...do you still want to continue?" naruto asked, discreetly cleaning the blood pouring to his chest while everyone was busy observing the fight between madara and tobirama from far away.

"dunno," obito answered flatly, glancing at the unconscious uchiha. "sasuke seems losing too much blood."

naruto sighed, picking up sasuke from the ground. "let's just go home..."


	10. dragonless - reflection

**fusion with another fandom. take it as an au; prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

the silence was deafening after tobirama's harsh refusal tore through the air. hashirama closed her eyes, breathing deeply, counting to ten before she faced her brother again, still simmering with rage.

"it's political."

"he's still marrying you, for sage's sake. political or not, i'd say let's storm the palace and kill him-"

"tobirama." hashirama nearly shouted at him. "half of the realm declares me an empress. the rest is under his rule as the emperor. if we're married, we have no reason to continue this civil war."

"he did something to you while you stayed to heal izuna, didn't he?" he swept the room with his chakra, so intense that any foot soldier would be suffocated at once. "i should've killed izuna for good-"

"if you did that, madara would want you killed before he said peace," hashirama walked forward, pushing her own chakra against his. "i do this to protect you and the realm. i'm not doing this for my own gain..." she trailed off.

tobirama's chakra dissipated, but he was still glaring at her.

"i personally get nothing out of this union," she continued with a pained expression. "i don't even love madara."

"promise me that this will remain political, sister."

hashirama nodded. "i will never love him that way."

.

.

the first rule of fighting an uchiha is simple: look anywhere but into their eyes.

hashirama memorized it perfectly, embedded it into her reflexes deeply, and masked it well so others would think she was looking into madara's eyes while her actual focus was elsewhere. even when they were skin to skin, without anyone nearby.

her only duty as the empress of the realm was protecting the people from his wrath and gnawing madness that had consumed his father and predecessor. she still remembered her words to tobirama after the long years of peace started and, eventually, waned.

she was glad her brother made her say that promise.

.

.

the palace was nearly destroyed, except for the tallest tower, standing tall amidst the charred ruins. hashirama used her trees to step atop the tower. madara was still standing, proud and battle-worn. half of his armor was gone, his weapons mangled beyond repair. his eyes were black, but she avoided them the same.

"surrender, madara," hashirama commanded, her voice booming amidst the wind and storm, "you have nowhere else to go." she lifted a bruised arm, pointing her sword to him.

madara made no reply, instead he dropped the rest of his armor, taking slow and steady steps towards her. "there is another way," he said, soft but loud enough for her to hear. he stopped just an inch before her sword.

her arm started to shake. she hesitated.

madara's sharingan flared back to life, and this time, for the first time in her life, she couldn't look away.

hashirama wouldn't look away.

like any other weapons, the sharingan was existed to instill fear in the enemies' hearts. but what hashirama saw was tinged with a hint of fear. strange.

emperor madara feared nothing.

so she remained, seeking and seeking-

his lips moved. "...my sun and stars."

.

.

the second thing hashirama learned about the sharingan was that the eye reflected the heart.

she caught madara just as her sword pierced his heart, and she laid his head on her lap, their eyes finally looking into each other.

and as he breathed his last, hashirama closed madara's eyes.

 _moon of my life._

* * *

.

 **prompt is "i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified"**


	11. donuts

**modern au; prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

there was a new bakery in konoha that specialized in donuts. specifically, cute animal themed donuts that made young girls squeal as they scrolled the bakery's online gallery. it was not yet open, but it's already the talk of the town.

"honestly, i don't see their appeal," madara commented offhandedly after listening to his niece going on and on about the donuts during dinner. "their charm will be gone once you eat it."

mikoto groaned, exchanging a tired look with hashirama who smiled and patted her back. kagami said something about his girlfriend wanting to try the donuts, and the two young uchiha soon engaged in a deep conversation over which donut was better: the matcha monkey or the chocolate cat one.

"you seem to be the only one who doesn't like it, madara," hashirama said as they prepared to sleep. "it's a big hit in iwa, i heard."

"it's just donuts," he grumbled and closed his eyes. "won't taste so different from the cheap ones fugaku likes to buy near the headquarter."

his wife chuckled and resumed brushing her hair.

.

.

.

madara was woken up with a nudge. the clock on the wall showed it was not yet five, the time he usually left the bed. he turned, thinking hashirama might need something, and asked, "are you feeling sick..?"

deep brown eyes blinked back at him. "no. but i want matcha monkey."

madara lay down again. "ask mikoto to buy it for you."

"nooo, you don't understand…" she shook his arm, whining. "bakerzoo will be open today at eight. i need a dozen for myself, madara."

a chill ran down his spine. is this what they call pregnancy craving? "i'll… ask someone in the headquarter to buy a dozen for you?" he offered.

hashirama pouted. "that's abuse of power."

"that's just asking for a favor!"

"oh, fine." she faced the wall, grumbling, "i don't deserve getting bakerzoo donuts anyway, maybe i should get it myself and queuing for hours instead of working. i'm sure my pregnant stomach can handle it–"

madara jumped out of bed, running his hand through his long hair and sighing, "alright–just… give me their address."

hashirama beamed at him as she showed her phone screen.

.

.

.

at six in the morning, there was already a long queue outside the bakery. madara tried his best not to draw attention from other customers. if the fearsome police chief of konoha was seen here… he shuddered thinking how it'd tarnish the police corps' image. thankfully most people were busy with their own phones.

fifteen minutes before the opening, he saw a reporter and a cameraman walking towards his direction.

 _crapcrapcrap._

madara pretended to be interested at the shop's closed window, listening to the reporter's chattering fading away as they took pictures of the long queue.

"uncle madara?"

mikoto was looking at him past the three people queuing between them. she snickered. before madara could tell her to look away, he felt sudden presence beside him.

"oh, isn't this konoha police chief himself, uchiha madara?" the reporter cheerfully announced. he felt everyone turned their heads towards him, including the cameraman. "so you're interested to try bakerzoo donuts, too?"

madara tried not to look uncomfortable before her microphone. "i'm… actually here because my wife wants some…"

"aww, how sweet of you!"

.

.

.

"change the channel."

"aww, but why?" hashirama asked, almost perfectly mimicking the reporter's reaction this morning.

they sat in her mayor office's lounge, watching the tv. madara's brief interview in front of the bakery was just aired, which she watched with glee. a box of bakerzoo donuts laid open on the coffee table, hashirama had eaten five by herself.

"nothing," madara sipped his coffee.

"mm, i feel so full." hashirama patted her swollen belly. "madara, are you sure you don't want any?"

"no."

"just a bite, please? you bought them after all."

he glanced at hashirama's pleading eyes, and finally nodded. "just a bite."

she cut a quarter of green donut, the matcha monkey, and offered it to him. "how is it?"

"…hn." madara covered his mouth as he chewed.

it was _so damn good_.


	12. an uncle's peril

**bonus tobirama/fem!izuna; crack ar. idea from a silly chat with friend**

* * *

.

.

"uncle!"

twenty distinctive voices called from the door. tobirama closed his notes only to find youthful faces swarming his personal library. he opened his mouth to silence them, but they were already on his table, knocking scrolls to the floor as they wailed.

"uncle uncle you promised!"

"mama said you gonna take us–"

"–market! market!"

"goldfiiiiiiiiiish!"

tobirama managed to prevent a five year old girl from eating her own snot, and another boy from eating his ink block. "please be quiet. where are your parents?"

his question was ignored as the youngest among them, a five month old, began crying in the arms of the oldest, a boy of thirteen. his twin brother was sulking away from the rest of the children. tobirama silently repeated his question to him, but he only shrugged.

"uncle uncle come on," a seven year old girl tugged his shirt. who was this kid's name again, sushi? riceball?

"alright, alright," he quickly said, snatching a precious scroll from a curious three year old (was his name takoyaki?), "i'll bring you to the market as long as you behave–"

their erupting cheer drowned the rest of his sentence.

.

.

"taiyaki-chan, where did you get this?"

taiyaki placed a large portion of hot takoyaki to tobirama's arm. the kids around him quickly snatched its contents before he could warn them.

"from the takoyaki stand."

tobirama frowned. "did i give you money?"

taiyaki shook her head. he put two and two together, then sighed. "don't mention your parents' names to him for free stuff…" several kids whined at once. "no–your father will scold you later if he finds out."

"if he finds out," the sulking twin repeated, his face hidden behind a fox mask he got for free. tobirama could tell he was grinning.

"where's uh…" tobirama counted the kids. they're missing a couple boys who went off looking for goldfish. "where are riceball and seaweed?"

"you mean mochi and nori," the other twin corrected him, the baby in his arms asleep.

"i is riceball!" a toddler screamed and kicked his leg.

tobirama winced. "right, them. can someone fetch them while we're waiting here?" he sat on a bench. riceball climbed onto his lap, latching herself onto him and dozing off.

"fiiiiine," the masked twin left.

he felt something tickled his cheek. glancing, he saw his niece (which one is this, konyaku?) making patterns on his skin using a newly gained ink brush. "konyaku, stop it."

she pouted. "rude! i'm not konyaku!"

"sorry–maguro, don't draw on my face."

"kidding, i am konyaku," she grinned as she drew exaggerated eyebrows on his forehead. the other kids laughed at him.

screams and explosions cut their mirth short. tobirama stood, watching an oak tree sprung into existence, its branches destroyed anything in their paths. before he could do anything, he saw mochi and nori wrapped on the branches and tossed into his directions. they landed safely, but crying and wailing.

"not again!" the baby-carrying twin screamed. "mama said you shouldn't use mokuton in the village, tajima!"

tajima, the masked twin, slid off a branch gracefully "it's because they don't wanna go home, butsuma! and i managed to make only one tree this time, instead of sprouting an entire forest–"

butsuma's eyes flared red. "mama will be ashamed when she finds out."

" _if_ she finds out," tajima repeated mockingly.

"stop it, both of you!"

tobirama managed to unlatch sleeping riceball from his torso when the twins began to exchange punches. they hit both sides of his head at the same time, darkening his vision.

his nieces and nephews endlessly calling and calling him…

.

.

.

"get dressed, quick."

"wha–" his robe was thrown to him. tobirama groggily shoved it away, fighting the urge to continue sleeping. it wasn't morning yet, and the snow had been piling high outside. such a perfect time to sleep. "what happened?"

izuna was already fully dressed, combing her hair with her fingers and tying it into her usual ponytail. "a messenger just arrived. your sister has given birth."

tobirama jumped out of bed, getting dressed while heading to the front door. the faces in his dream weren't quite fading yet, but at least it was a dream, and he was grateful of it.

"i hope they're already thinking of names," izuna said as they leaped from roof to roof towards the hokage residence.

"names? isn't one enough?"

"they got twins. boys. i hope they don't name them after our fathers," she rolled her eyes, scoffing. "it would be awkward, and i'd veto it."

tobirama's stomach suddenly felt very, very sick.


	13. for the gala

**with tobiizu; fem!izuna. modern au.**

* * *

.

.

kagami shifted from one foot to another, his eyes scanning the crowd. the earpiece on his ear let out static noise once in a while, but he paid his fullest attention. commands could be relayed any time.

"…i told her that that gown is too open for this weather, but i have to admit it complements her skin nicely under the lighting. ivory suits her."

kagami hummed flatly.

"those old mayors looked like rock beside her, such a shining gem, even outshines the socialites. they don't have her elegance and commanding presence. don't you think she stands out like a queen among her lowest subjects?"

kagami hummed again, hoping no other guests heard him referring to the foreign dignitaries as _lowest subjects_. it would stir more than just a trouble.

"she likes her hair untied; a simple updo is more suited for this occasion, perhaps with an elaborate hairpin, but she refused. i was wrong; my wife does look the best without too much jewelry on her gleaming hair–"

"uncle…" kagami hissed so low, his lips barely moving.

"–her usual necklace is enough. oh, are you disagreeing?"

kagami finally turned to see his uncle peering at him from his champagne glass. he was saved from having to explain himself by the arrival of a woman in red dress.

"there you are, brother," izuna approached the men, looking relieved. "spare kagami from your account of hashirama's outfit tonight. he doesn't need to hear it."

"but–"

"he's working. you're his boss, you should've known better." izuna linked her arm to madara's and waved a silent goodbye to kagami, dragging the other man away. they stopped closer to the circle where the senju siblings were mingling with the foreign mayors.

"where have you been, izuna? i thought you're with tobirama." madara stopped a waiter carrying spoons of colorful mini puddings, taking one for himself.

"politics bores me to death. like i don't hear enough in classroom everyday." izuna swallowed her pudding, slightly nudging her brother on his arm. "speaking of tobirama, do you think his red tie suits him better than his usual blue? or should've i picked a lighter shade?"

madara's lips pulled thin in annoyance, discreetly groaning.


	14. dragonless - chosen ones

**fem!izuna. asoiaf!naruto. companion to chapter 10.**

* * *

.

.

"you're joking."

madara frowned, watching his falcon flew away. "i'm not. it's a politically good match."

izuna paced around restlessly. "she used me, brother! she used me to feed you with her lies. i should've died so you can kill her without remorse." she stopped, knuckles trembling in anger.

her brother looked at her blankly. "you usually don't oppose my choice."

"because this is a stupid choice!" izuna's voice awakened other falcons in their cages. "you're taking asura's blood as your consort. the throne might never accept your children like it accepts us."

madara crossed the room in swift steps, placing his hands on her shoulders. "izuna, you're still the crown princess. i can't lose you."

"...did she bash your head the last time you two fought?"

"she parried my attacks, all while asking to heal you." madara took a deep breath. "do you remember why father chose mother?"

"what's the point? don't change the topic so suddenly."

"father never beat her in chess. she's the only one who can beat him." he released her, extending his arm as his falcon returned. "the throne's chosen ones favors the strong, like emperor indra himself."

izuna gaped at him. "are you saying-"

madara put his falcon into the cage. "hashirama is carrying my heir-"

"what the hell!"

"-so i can't terminate the betrothal our fathers arranged long ago. don't yell, izuna."

"ugh..." she massaged her temple. how could madara said that so calmly? inwardly she began to freak out. if only she could kill tobirama in that battle, she wouldn't get wounded by him and hashirama wouldn't have to use her so she could seduce madara. "i need to beat hashirama. her brother too."

"she's pregnant."

"oh right. nine months aren't that long, i'll wait."

"she'll be nursing my heir by then. just beat tobirama."

"damn well i will."

madara smirked. "keep an eye on him. he's shrewder than his sister." he walked towards the stairs. "let them know that they're mere guests in the dragons' den."

izuna curtsied, grinning. "yes, your majesty."


	15. dragonless - litah

**asoiaf!naruto. #AksaraAgustus - litah; to talk freely without restrain, spilling secrets**

 **set after chapter 7 of _the art of war..._**

* * *

.

.

"oh! what brings you so early here?"

madara stopped buttoning up his shirt, listening intently. he was hidden away from his chamber's entrance, behind a partition and half a dozen other heavy set of furniture. hashirama's tone spoke of cheerful surprise, which made it suspicious. who was it? he didn't need to mold his chakra; the guest replied immediately.

"i need to ask you something."

he grinned to himself. the younger senju–wait, he's lord senju now; leader to his clan and his alliance and blahblahblah–was his second favorite game after the older one. the uneasiness in his voice fed the emperor's delight.

steps. "what is it, tobirama?" his next words were too inaudible, but hashirama's next reaction was enough for him. "…where did you hear that!?"

"izuna."

a pause. "you believe her?" an awkward laugh. "don't take it seriously; she's just joki–"

"sister."

she fell silent. ah, poor hashirama, being cornered by her own blood sibling. time to rescue her then.

madara unbuttoned his shirt, unceremoniously tossing it away as he left the partition. he maintained eye contact with lord senju, who scrunched up his nose upon seeing his shirtless state. hugging her from behind, madara slid his hand over hashirama's womb, and kept it there.

tobirama's eyes narrowed.

madara had to suppress a grin. "morning, hashi." he lightly kissed her neck, on the dragon's mark he left nights ago. "what does our little brother want?"

"madara," hashirama hissed, warning him.

"nothing," tobirama answered, lips pulled in a tight diplomatic smile. "pardon my intrusion, your majesties." he bowed slightly and left without another word.

hashirama shoved his arms, turning around. "can't you be at least more civil towards him?" she sighed deeply.

he raised an eyebrow. "wasn't that civil enough? we weren't raising our swords."

"never mind that; where's your clothes? we're already late for breakfast… let's not make the elders wait." hashirama grabbed a wooden comb, tidying her hair.

"there's no need to rush." madara crossed his arms, watching the muscles on her exposed back. "they are expecting us to be late."

hashirama looked at him through her mirror's reflection. "…you should've told me earlier; i could use more sleep."

"oh no, you shouldn't be sleeping."

"so what do you suggest i should do?"

madara cocked his head to the side, smirking. "strip, hashirama."


	16. serenity

**quick stuff.  
**

* * *

.

.

she sought his warmth in the bitterest of nights, telling her worries and wandering thoughts, hoping to find a closure.

sometimes he listened, sometimes he laughed, but he always burned them,

"save your worry for tomorrow, hashi."

madara was right. there's always tomorrow.


	17. running from reality

**naruto (c) masashi kishimoto. no profit gained from writing this fic  
**

 **fem!izuna. modern crime au.**

* * *

.

.

 **i**

there was a familiar face under the shadows, extending a hand that greeted her in playfully mocking way.

"you ran out of money and have nowhere else to go tonight?" he watched the bartender mixing her drink intently. "it's been more than a decade, yet you're still a fool like when you're twelve."

hashirama pouted as she accepted her drink. "i was desperate. thought i'd win something if i gamble all of my money–don't you dare laughing, madara!"

she slept on his couch that night. he worked outside until sunrise.

neither asked what they've been up to after all these years.

.

 **ii**

hashirama permanently moved to madara's small apartment. she got a job as a cashier at a herb store across the street. her boss never called her by her real name, and madara never asked why.

madara slept through the day, and left the house after sunset. once hashirama stumbled upon a gun under his bed. she returned it back, and never asked him about it.

the heater broke in a winter night, and hashirama moved to his bed. madara never minded it. the bed was hers by night, and his by day. sleeping arrangement was easy.

.

 **iii**

hashirama thought instant coffee is a world wonder.

madara had no idea how dining etiquette worked. she taught him the details in return of another world wonder called cup noodles.

he returned home rather quickly, his borrowed suit burned in tatters. she tended his wounds in silence.

"pack your belongings," madara said while she stitched a gash on his arm.

she did.

.

 **iv**

hashirama never asked why they left his place or how he found another place so easily. if madara said they needed to move, then she went with him.

his work schedule changed a lot. sometimes he went in the morning, afternoon, or glued to his laptop all night long. hers stayed the same; almost normal, despite the fact that they never introduced themselves to their neighbors and they used a hundred names for each other.

.

 **v**

madara knew hashirama wasn't someone who used to his lifestyle. he sometimes heard her mumbling or crying in her sleep, calling a name that must be her brother. she had one, he recalled from their childhood. sometimes he could tell she didn't get any sleep; pushing through her work fueled by instant coffee.

"tasted like over-sweetened shit," she said once when they stopped by a gas station, moving out for the umpteenth time in an ungodly hour. she curled on the passenger seat for the rest of their journey, her dreams restless.

she never complained about his life.

.

 **vi**

"what do you do?" madara asked on the ninety fourth night. she was borrowing his laptop.

"looking for news." she shrugged. hashirama had no phone.

later he found out she had been searching her own name.

.

 **vii**

"how's izuna?" hashirama asked, watching him cleaning his weapons.

madara's expression darkened, and he set down his gun. "hospitalized for months. hit and run. the cops never caught that rich bastard who hit her. i bet they avoided court with their money."

she held his hand in bed, and their sleeping arrangement suddenly felt awkward.

(she discreetly gave him more of her hard earned money)

.

 **viii**

there were no longer cold nights.

.

 **ix**

when madara entered the apartment on the hundredth night, hashirama had been waiting nervously.

"i think i've been followed. since i left the public library."

he taught her how to shoot.

on the next night he found a dead man, having shot in the head on the parking lot. he called the cleaning service he knew, and asked her no questions.

she was trembling, but he held her tight.

.

 **x**

hashirama wore disguise whenever she went to the library. "i'm finishing… something," she answered his question, fiddling her flash drive. "you never told me what you actually do anyway."

"i sell vengeance." madara threw the food wrapper into the bin. "i have a list of disliked people i need to capture."

he did more than just vengeance.

.

 **xi**

the hospital called, telling that a major operation was needed soon. they sent the latest photo of her sister, accompanied by a fresh flower on her nightstand.

madara counted, he had more than he predicted. but it never enough. he vowed to hunt down the driver and get them to pay her bills.

hashirama had been quiet. "i just miss my brother, that is all."

"if you miss him so, why don't you go home?"

.

 **xii**

sometimes hashirama missed the comfort of her father's house, and the quiet company of tobirama. but she knew she was afraid to go.

that if she did, she would miss his hand holding on hers whenever she had a problem sleeping.

she would miss his lips on hers.

.

 **xiii**

they were just desperate people seeking temporary solace in each other embrace.

.

 **xiv**

the entire country was shaken hearing the latest news. that a certain real estate developer had been decimating fire country's sacred forest and surrounding landscape to build a resort. everybody, from somebodies to nobodies, all cursed everyone who worked in the developer company. it went bankrupt within hours.

the source was a heart-wrenching essay about the people who defended the heritage forest, the trees and animals.

the writer was a missing person.

.

 **xv**

his latest assignment worth triple of izuna's hospital bill.

.

 **xvi**

"i know what you do."

"so do i."

hashirama beamed, offering him her wrists. madara raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"oh, do they want me dead?" she asked. "better ready your gun. but i'll be a martyr. not a politically wise step, i say."

he made no move. "you're surprisingly calm about this."

"at least i can save another person."

he tied her wrists and left her at a gas station for his client to pick up.

.

 **xvii**

the operation was a success, and there was a new bouquet beside izuna's bed.

the talkative nurse told madara of a pale haired man who came weekly, little by little paying the bills from his own work. "poor man," said the nurse, "he ran over her while driving his own sister to the airport. apparently she was stalked by some bad guys. they missed her flight, but she left by train after your sister was taken here. he said she went missing just a couple weeks later…"

madara had a gun in his jacket.

.

 **xviii**

"i'm really sorry," tobirama whispered.

 _i should be the one apologizing_ , madara told himself, opening a can of ice cold coffee.

"were you… by any chance, met my sister?"

the kisses he shared with hashirama lingered on his lips, and the coffee tasted like over-sweetened shit.

"no."

.

 **xix**

that night, madara hunted for redemption.


	18. cold seeps

**merman au**

* * *

.

.

"you're crying."

she lifted her face, seeing a young man emerging from the water. his hair was longer than hers. "...you're naked," she pointed out.

he rolled his eyes. "i'm not." he leaned his arms and head on a smaller rock, looking bored.

she wiped her face using her thick scarf, and fixed her wind-tossed hair. "you don't wear a shirt, though...?"

"...don't need." he looked away, his long and wild hair hid his face. for a wet hair, it was strangely spiky.

hashirama frowned. she went to the beach alone, seeking solace. usually people didn't come here so late. she frequented this place as a child, and liked to visit from time to time. the place was eerily beautiful, since tonight was full moon.

"don't you feel cold?" she hopped down from the boulder where she had been sitting to walk on the rocks towards him.

he sank a little into the water as she knelt beside his rock. the young man had a pale skin, strong jawline, and defined muscles on his torso."no," he scoffed, but the fingers that rubbed his forearm were trembling.

"why are you swimming so late at night?" she asked.

"why are you crying alone outside at night?" a mischievous smile spread on his lips, prompting a laugh from hashirama.

"good point." she grinned. "i'm just... having a fallout with my friend. we haven't spoken for a week, so i feel lonely."

"aw."

"don't mock me." she pushed his forearm. it was slippery, yet the texture was so unlike her skin. hashirama leaned further, seeing into the shallow water.

"...what are you doing?"

under his torso was an extremely long, dark tail. its scales glimmered whenever it moved. the tail ended in two equally dark fins with fiery red streaks.

"you have... a tail?"

the man pushed himself away from the rocks, his playful look replaced by hostility. "you're not supposed to see it," he hissed, swimming away.

"wait!" hashirama yelled at him. "wait-" she jumped into the water, walking along the seabed to chase him. the water that started at her waist gradually grew to her chest, shoulder, neck... she really should've took off her thick clothes before jumping...

then a splash, and hashirama spluttered saltwater, coughing loudly. hands lifted her by the waist, and she landed on his shoulder.

"are all humans this reckless?" she heard him asking, exasperated.

"i didn't mean to-" she gasped for air.

"you could've drowned!" his arms tightened around her body.

hashirama ran her hands on his back, feeling the scales and sharp fin protruding from his spine. she held his shoulders, while he swam towards the shore.

finally he let go of her. "now go home."

hashirama whispered her thanks, kneeling on the dry pebbles. "can i see you again someday?"

"as long as you promised me you won't do such thing again." he pointed at her.

"i promise!" she quickly said. "i'm hashirama."

"madara." he gave her a brief smile before disappearing into the water.


	19. rewind

**ar**

* * *

.

.

she was floating, sinking, and everything in between. there was a steel in her heart, drenched by ink and tears.

"how does it feel?" he asked, the waters around her body rippled as he knelt. the gloved hand on her cheek was cold.

she looked up, expecting a face that matched the familiar voice. but he was nothing like the face in her memory; he was pale, purple-eyed, with hair gleaming crimson like the moon above and the blood bubbling up from the hole in her heart.

"i don't know," she whispered, unsure, fingers opening and closing and-"why... am i alive?"

he pulled up the sword. "because you look good in red," he answered, smirking, "hashirama."

her blood seeped back into her wound and her flesh sewed itself into health.

"madara-"

and as she took her first breath, he thrust the sword into her heart again.


	20. a slice of night

**canon setting; i still have exams on sunday sobs**

* * *

.

.

"it's getting bigger."

"the village? yes."

it was cold on top of her carved face, but hashirama had equipped herself with extra coat. madara, on the other hand, brought no coat with him. she draped hers on his body, prompting him to look at her questioningly.

"you're shivering."

"i'm warm on the inside," he insisted. "just wrap yourself."

"nope." hashirama fixed the coat on his shoulder, and shifted closer to him. "i'm not going to risk you catching a cold."

madara sighed. "touch my chest if you don't believe it."

she gingerly lifted her hand, doing as he said. "...oh, you're right." the warmth traveled to her skin. it was pleasant.

they stayed like that for a while, gazing at the growing konoha underneath. lanterns lined the streets like star constellations. madara's own hand rested on her waist, pulling her closer until her head leaned on his chest.

"you should've told me that you're shivering, hashirama."


	21. a crown of shadows and scorched leaves

**snippet from an ongoing project**

* * *

.

.

"you can't have both things."

"what about you, how many did you wish?"

"three; a new home for izuna, a safe place without war, and another i think unattainable."

"didn't we wish for the same thing? what stopped you? i'm here. take my hand."

"i need to see the world first. i need to see the changes we made affecting other places."

hashirama looked back, to the glittering lights of konoha far behind.

"you can't leave it," madara said, "so i won't ask it from you."

she turned to him, fists clenching. "our home won't go anywhere."


	22. red

**canonverse, early konoha** **days**

tent covers flapped around them, blown by the incessant wind ruling the great plain between the two countries. their shadow rulers sought refuge underneath, exchanging polite words while their guards stood tall behind.

"an interesting choice of color," the woman in red and white attire remarked. "picked by your ruler...?"

the man in white and green replied, "indeed, but had it not been his choice, i'd pick green still."

"why?"

"symbolizes our dream of a vast, lush garden instead of an endless sea of sand. or just cacti." he smiled, leaning on the chair. "so what about your color, hokage-sama?"

she raised an eyebrow.

"what does it symbolize?"

"fire, perhaps... ah, no, it's still our country symbol. blood, i guess?" she turned her head to look at her guard. "what do you think, madara?"

he merely shrugged. "either way works."

hours after they left the tent, the hokage brought up the subject again. "reto nicely defined his green as a dream. but i'm stuck at defining ours!"

"blood is nice, hashi," madara said, finished taking off his armor.

hashirama whined. "no! that sounds too... warmongering, don't you think?" her eyebrows furrowed. "red... autumn leaves? beautiful but dead... ugh, i'm not good at this thing..."

"easy answer right before you and you still don't know it?" madara chuckled. "unbelievable!"

she turned, slightly upset. "what ans—"

madara grinned, pushing his long bangs away. hashirama gaped at him.

of course. the sharingan.

his smile warmed as he embraced her. "it's easy when you don't think that hard." he lifted her hat to kiss her cheek.

"you could've just told me," hashirama mumbled to his shoulder, feeling the heat spreading on her cheeks.

madara pulled away. "and miss this gloriously reddish cheeks of yours? i don't think so."

"hngggh." she buried her face in his chest, stealing a glance at the mirror in their rented room.

 _fire. blood. sharingan._

he should've been chosen as the hokage.


	23. crownverse - hunting

**early konoha** **days**

* * *

.

.

"you've been quiet."

hashirama paid no heed to madara's remarks. she laid her head on the ground, listening to the tremble of earth in the distance. "are you sure this is the same beast...?"

madara furrowed. "now you're doubting me."

"i'm just confirming. you can't see that far in the distance." she held out a hand. "pass me the waterskin."

he handed her the requested item, and helped her up. "reto said this one never gone too south."

"preferring dense forests over vast sands? with its tendency to run tirelessly?"

"can't blame it, kazenokuni's sun is scorching."

hashirama's shoulders slumped. she massaged her lower back.

"wanna call it a day?"

the hokage's stare was defiant for a split second, but she heaved a sigh. "okay," she muttered, then her fingers formed a seal.

madara grabbed her hands. "no mokuton- the cave we found isn't too far. we can fly back." as he spoke, swirls of pure blue chakra sew itself into a gigantic armor.

"people will see!" she protested while he carried her in his arms.

"and you're six months pregnant with twins," madara chuckled, his wild hair was blown by the wind as they rose. "just- enjoy the ride, hashi."

"...fine."

besides, the view from her angle was magnificent.


	24. crownverse - negotiation

**crownverse, set pre-epilogue of _mahkota daun_**

* * *

.

.

"have you seen the children who died in the battlefield, your majesty?" hashirama nearly yelled her question, her chest heavy and weary, her children restless in her womb. "so young, too young to die! they had years-years to live and you took it away."

the emperor snickered. "no wonder hinokuni is weakened! their army is ruled by some weak womanly feelings! feelings don't win war!"

"feelings made her a goddess, your majesty," madara commented, cold seeped from his voice. he held his wife's waist, silently asking her to sit again. "do i need to remind you that she alone could flatten your mountain, if she so wishes?"

"oh." the emperor faked a laugh, leaning forward to see the guests several steps under his throne. his gestures reminded them of another emperor, one who ruled the lands they called home. "should i remind you whose house you're entering?"

hashirama slowly sat down again, defeated.

hours later in a room lent to them, she sat on the edge of their bed. her face was hidden in her hands. "why do they're always unwilling to negotiate?"

"it makes them look weak," madara whispered, extending a transparent chakra barrier around them. "it looks like surrendering. you should've known by now."

"i hoped it'd be different in tsuchinokuni."

"it's the same everywhere, hashi." madara caressed her swollen belly. "you sleep first. we'll leave tomorrow morning."

"i don't want to go home," hashirama protested. "let's try again."

madara shook his head. "we'll talk to someone else."

she blinked.

"the shinobi of tsuchi surely have a leader, no?"

a smile slowly bloomed on her face.


	25. in the eye of the storm

**konoha**

* * *

.

.

"just-" tobirama cut himself, clearly exasperated that he had to ask this over and over again. "just tell me, why him?" he gestured to the open window, where they watched six young genins training with a familiar figure.

hashirama stared blankly at her brother, then her sight was back at the field below. "he's calming."

"that noisy, destructive, violent uchiha madara-calming?"

"he's calming me," hashirama said, chuckling over her brother's obvious skepticism. "when i'm with him, the storm inside me just stops."

"he's the biggest storm in five countries, aneja," tobirama insisted.

"and he's my husband." hashirama sat on the windowsill. "also-did you know that it's the calmest in the eye of the storm?"

without waiting for his answer, she jumped to the field to join their training.

tobirama sighed and returned to his paperwork. she was definitely a lost cause.


	26. the fallen leaf never hates the wind

**tumblr user windandrose prompt fill. prompt is chapter title**

* * *

.

.

"don't you get tired?"

madara stood far above the forest she grew, she tended, she birthed, while his inferno danced swallowing them. his susano'o swept, cutting the forest in half, and hashirama emerged as bloodied bones while her muscles and skin sew themselves to health.

"i am," she answered in a raspy voice, creating wooden tower to face him in the air.

"liar."

she didn't deny it.

"i've killed you more than we both remember," he snarled. "you never killed me, not even once! are you even serious?"

hashirama pushed her hair from her bare shoulder, shaking her head. "i want to stop you without killing you, madara."

"most people would've hated me for killing them once."

"i am not most people." hashirama rested her palms together. "i'll never hate you, no matter how many times you kill me."

a grin spread across his face. "we'll see about that."


	27. responsibility

**facebook prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

"so... here we are."

hashirama's blade sliced a layer of madara's skin. even in the face of death he was oddly calm, and she felt indifferent for admiring this trait of his.

if this was seven hundred days ago, she would've smiled and leaned on his shoulder, burying herself amidst the tangled mess that was his mane, inhaling the scent of war and never-fully-healed wounds from his back.

"here we are," hashirama repeated with a voice so unlike hers; so lifeless and raspy, spoken as if her jaw was controlled by a puppet master far away.

madara cocked his head, maintaining his arrogant smirk. "what stops you, hokage-sama?" when she didn't answer, he added, "this isn't he first time you see me bleeding."

her lips parted and closed.

"you're hoping to reconcile."

she blinked.

"throw that pipe dream away," madara sighed. the roots she grew bound his limbs and torso, sapping his chakra until his sharingan couldn't be activated. he was slowly dying.

"i just want you to know..." hashirama drew her blade, pointing it to a spot above his left chest. "no hard feelings."

"no hard feelings," madara scoffed, "after all these years and the children we made; no hard feelings?"

"you left me without choice," she said with the same lifeless voice, pushing the blade past his clothes and skin—

"say it then," madara demanded, "say that you don't love me."

hashirama drove her sword further into his heart. she leaned closer, whispering, "this is my responsibility."

"fine," madara said, barely audible as he coughed blood, "i'll say it—i love you, hashi."

the roots returned to earth. she laid down madara's lifeless body on the ground, wiping blood from his wounds.

hashirama allowed herself to shed a single tear, but no more.

rain had descended from the heavens.


	28. on love

**prequel to previous chapter. happy valentine's day!**

* * *

.

.

people always assumed it was hashirama who loved him too much, and madara who couldn't love her at all.

little did they know it was madara who loved her too much, and hashirama who couldn't love him at all.

senju clan's prowess wasn't love; it's compassion to anyone and anything. clan member or not. humans or animals. hashirama's compassion, well, encompassed everyone. no exceptions.

the war-oriented uchiha had their sharingan grew not from hatred; but from love. people thought they had little; the truth is they have so much, but given only to select few.

madara gave all his love to hashirama.

but hashirama couldn't love him back.

sure she tended to him, cared for his well-being, birthed their children, held him without being asked, but it was so cold, so lifeless,

as if he was anyone else.

"we're killers, not lovers. shinobi musn't experience love," she said, lying on his chest as they woke before dawn. "i was trained not to let it grow. weren't you?"

"we were," madara lied, burying his fingers in her hair.

he knew he'd die by her hands.


	29. hanahaki

**hanahaki!hashi, with a twist**

* * *

.

.

when madara entered konoha after a month long wandering, he was greeted by new trees. had they were nothing peculiar, he wouldn't pay them more attention. but these trees grew sideways, from the gates, from the walls, with trunks so bent and twisted they blocked paths everywhere they grew. the villagers around him were busy with their saws, cutting the misshapen trees and revealing its insides.

madara noted they lacked tree rings. a characteristic only found among the artificially grown.

"my sister is on leave, submit your reports downstairs," tobirama's voice greeted him as he entered the hokage's office. he was hidden behind a pile of paperwork.

madara hadn't said a word. not wanting to sour his mood by talking to the younger senju, he chose to gather information elsewhere.

"oh, this?" a scribe in the library gestured to a short, slender oak growing upside down from the ceiling. "the hokage came here, sneezed-bam! there's this tree. it's the first, about two weeks old."

two weeks. the phrase made his eyebrows furrowed. two weeks was the time he's supposed to return.

"do you think it's a kind of hanahaki?" another scribe piped in, "it's a mythical disease afflicting people whose love is unrequited-"

"where's hashirama now?" madara cut in.

half a day later, after following a trail of misshapen trees, madara arrived at a hill north of konoha. he didn't need sensing; the loud, repeated sneezing was enough to locate her. like they said, in a blink of an eye a groove of strange trees manifested afterwards.

"not again!" he heard her yelling. "not my soup! when is this gonna stop-oh." hashirama had turned around and spotted madara. "oh hi."

after salvaging whatever left from her toppled soup cauldron, they sat, chatted, and ate. "i don't know how it started..." hashirama stared at her now empty bowl. "i can't stop sneezing every half an hour."

"half an hour," madara repeated, leaning on one of the weird trees to rest. "how long do you think we've been talking?"

hashirama blinked.

upon sunrise, they returned to konoha. her sneezing was absent for the three following days-until madara was sent to another mission.

his team hadn't walked further than a hundred meter when the deafening sneeze tore the air, followed by the sudden appearance of misshapen trees. madara simply walk to the village gate, where its leader stood wiping her nose.

"i haven't given my proper farewell," madara said, taking hashirama's hand. he kissed her knuckle gently, smirking upon seeing her brother's appalled face.

"madara-"

"i'll see you in five days, alright?" he caressed her cheek.

blushing, hashirama nodded. "until later."

this time, she didn't sneeze misshapen forest again when he left the gates.


	30. a kiss that won't be remembered

**prompt is a kiss that won't be remembered; fb prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

"you're crying."

"i'm not."

"your eyes are red—"

"oh shut up!"

but hashirama couldn't leave madara alone. the girl tiptoed closer towards the river, where the boy was heading. he was sad. it's bad. something bad must had happened.

after madara wiped his face, hashirama stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. he was stunned, slowly reaching for the spot where her lips just landed.

"please don't cry," she whispered, quickly explaining to hide her creeping embarrassment, "it's—it's... mother like to do it to father when he's sad..."

the surprise on his face was replaced by smugness. "you're the one who's about to cry now."

"hey!"

* * *

.  
hashirama didn't know why she was reminded to that moment today, of all times, when she gazed at madara at the end of the aisle, clad in black tux. he was giddy, she could tell.

madara's face was radiant with happiness.

it warmed her heart to see her best friend like this, truly, yet here she was, stuck in the chair like dozens other guests, clutching a pouch of flower petals. the innocent kiss she gave him fifteen years ago would've been forgotten, overshadowed by the kiss he'd share with his bride soon...

oh no, no. she wouldn't trade away his happiness for a little selfish thought.

so hashirama smoothed her dress, waiting.

* * *

.  
the bride never came.

hashirama sought him at a nearby bar, still wearing the same tuxedo past midnight, with his third glass of scotch. she took it away from his grasp.

"i'll drive you to the hotel," she offered.

madara still stared at the empty space where his drink was. "i can walk."

"i'll walk with you then."

they were almost arrived at the hotel when madara stopped at a bridge. hashirama linked their arms, worried, but he shook his head.

"listen."

in the starlit world, hashirama could make out the silhouette of a roaring waterfall in the north. its river ran under their feet.

"it'll be easier if i can just… elope with you."

hashirama's lips parted, then pursed as she looked away and freed his arm. "you know i can't," she rubbed her ring finger, which was adorned with a silver band. within a week, it'd be replaced with a golden one.

"i saw you," madara hissed, "i know that look, hashi—"

"let's just go…"

"you're the one who's about to cry now."

she froze.

a faint smile danced on his lips. madara had to lean on the railing to support his weight. he's definitely not just tipsy.

he wouldn't remember this exchange of words.

hashirama closed the distance between them, and kissed his cheek.

madara wouldn't remember this kiss either.

* * *

.  
it was days later when madara watched hashirama walking on the aisle to her groom, her eyes twinkled with tears as they met his, and he could feel tears rolling on his cheek. he's happy for her, although he felt like he had forgotten something important.

like the reason why hashirama had to look at madara when she said "i do."


	31. a kiss as a warning

**prompt is a kiss as a warning; fb prompt fill**

* * *

.

.

mission reports. complain forms. surveillance reports from all over the known countries. guests from faraway lands waiting to meet her. endless meeting with various clan heads-

new problems arose before hashirama finished the last one. tobirama had taken over half of the meetings, yet she's still struggling with her half. oh, she'd rather took out an army rather than facing a stack of paperwork every morning.

to make matters worse, madara hadn't been seen in the village for months. he was sent away on a solo mission, yet he never returned. instead he roamed the wild lands, his whereabouts was only known due to scouts and spies the hokage stationed in the peripheries of fire country.

she missed him terribly.

so when an anbu said uchiha madara is approaching the village gate, overjoyed barely described hashirama's mood. she cleaned her table from papers, asked the household staff for some snack and sake, and tidied herself a bit.

madara brought himself in with an air of hostility, ignoring the host's cheerful greeting. "save your pleasantries," he cut in, "it's terrible out there, yet you hole yourself up here."

"madara, please sit-"

"open your eyes! comfort and titles have blinded you! we should-!"

hashirama pushed him to the wall, activating her mokuton to keep his wrists and ankles in place. "madara..." she placed a finger on his lips, "there'll be a time for that..."

madara's sharingan was flaring as he struggled against the bonds. hashirama felt his chakra heating up, so she kissed him deeply, letting the buds of katon caressing her lips.

"consider this as a warning, uchiha-sama," hashirama whispered, smoke lingered around her healed lips. "please, sit down."

the bonds disappeared, madara pulled a chair towards her desk. "fine," he hissed, his sharingan followed her as she circled the room to her seat, "remember that i'll make you regret this, hokage-sama."

"oh, i'm looking forward to it," hashirama replied in a singsong voice, pouring sake for madara. "for tonight, let's chat."


	32. of limits and liminalities

**godless/godfall au; might be prequel to a draft i'm working on**

* * *

.

.

hashirama laid down her basket of trees and gazed upon the mists. there was someone else here.

in the lowest part of heavenly realm, her fellow gods and goddesses seldom came. the land was lifeless; everything that was here no longer existed due to the foul air from the underworld beyond the liminality. as the goddess of fertility, she was unaffected by it. she also couldn't stand seeing a land so dry and barren, so she tended trees more often there. alone, as usual.

yet today, she saw someone beyond the mists. a silhouette, following the tune of despairing wind, jumping from mist to mist amidst the trees.

"who are you!?" she asked, her voice echoed and her basket forgotten as she chased down the silhouette. "i meant no harm-i just want to see you!"

before she knew it, hashirama had reached the liminality, leaving her young trees behind. the silhouette belonged to a dancer beyond the limits, clad in nothing but his flames. red and blue fires swirled around him whenever he moved a muscle.

their eyes met, and her eternity halted.

his dance changed, he kept making eye contact with her, many times offering soot-covered arm behind the limit, as if he was inviting her to dance. the movements were foreign to the goddess; both terrifying and hypnotizing. the dance was so naked, so honest that she could see the depths of his heart, and her tears turned to rivers on her toes.

hashirama had reached, fingers nearly touching the limit, when she snapped back to reality. she lowered her arm, awash with shame.

what kind of goddess wishing to trespass the limit?

"hashirama."

hearing her name spoken with a surprising tenderness made her surprised. the dancer behind the limit, an underworld creature of fire, now staring at her. his head, crowned with absolute darkness, tilted as he whispered, "dance with me."

"you asked for the impossible, madara."

"you don't have to trespass." his finger trailing up the glimmering limit, nearly touching it. "follow my lead, and heed your body's wish."

at first hashirama merely mimicked madara's movement, but as soon as she got the gist, the goddess made her own dance. completely separated from his, yet complemented his elements. they lingered in either sides of the liminality, never strayed too far from each other, swirling in fire and scorched twigs; in every step she took hashirama felt greater urge to cross the limit-

"let's stop for now." madara took a step back. "i need to return."

"i still want to dance with you," she said, half pleading.

"you can dance with my shadows in the mists."

"it's not the same, it's-"

"then cross."

"can't you-?"

"i don't want to be a thrall among the gods."

"then meet me at the end of liminality, madara. there's a limitless realm. we can keep our raiments."

he was skeptical, like his nature. "how do you know?"

"because i made it." hashirama leaned closer, hopeful. "it's a seedbed for my trees."

madara raised his chin, seemingly satisfied. "alright. i shall see you there."

hashirama bid her goodbye and returned to the upper heavens in joy.

little did they know it was a start of an apocalypse.


	33. a kiss remembered

**continuation of #30**

* * *

.

.

why did hashirama look at him when she said "i do"?

madara couldn't shake off the question even after the married couple left. and here, behind the curtain to the bride's hospital bed, the ordeal of his own disastrous wedding a fortnight ago resurfaced. there was a blank period, between his arrival at a bar and waking up in his hotel the next day.

a nurse slipped out from the curtain, carrying a bundle of bloodied cloth. madara ducked in. hashirama was blankly staring at the ceiling, seemingly not noticing his arrival. light bruises marred her visible skin here and there, but nothing seemed bad.

"they cut my wedding gown," she whispered hoarsely. "cut it to pieces... i spent years dreaming of it. it's bloodied but still-they cut it without mercy, madara..."

he instinctively reached for her hand. her wedding ring was missing.

"i threw it out from the car earlier. he... he had been..." hashirama choked back tears. "can you believe he had been cheating on me-throughout our engagement? not just one too... and she-she had the audacity to call him right after our wedding asking if he'd come over-"

"save the story for later, hashi," he asked, half pleading, but she shook her head.

"i need to tell you how we fought."

right. he wasn't here without any purpose.

"before that, hashi," madara leaned closer, intertwining their fingers. "what happened after... my own wedding?"

"...you were drunk."

"and?"

"i took you to the hotel." she looked away. "you asked me to elope. i refused. then you asked me to kiss you."

"did you-"

"on the cheek. sorry." she let go of his hand, but madara held it.

"my offer still stands."

hashirama gaped at him, her confusion quickly disappeared. her gaze was lowered to his unadorned fingers.

"i mean, after you finalized your divorce and all..."

"he's dead, madara."

"my apologies."

"don't be." hashirama sat up straight. "can a police officiate our marriage, though? i'm sure they're still around here..."

madara struggled to keep his voice low. "without your dream gown-?"

"aren't i wearing one now?" she held back her laughter, gesturing at her hospital gown. "the love of my life is here, so that's enough."

he was reminded to her wedding this morning.

now madara knew why hashirama looked at him when she said "i do".


	34. crownverse - kiss kiss

**crownverse; major spoiler for mahkota daun/a crown of shadows chapter 14**

 **set between the treaty and the start of the story**

* * *

.

.

"there you are."

hashirama turned to find her partner ascending the rocky hill overlooking their new settlement. "i thought you'd be back tomorrow, madara."

"things finished faster than we expected," he replied, seating within an arm's length on her left. "the uzumaki scrolls are quite helpful."

she was glad, yet she couldn't help but noticing a shade fell on his face. "what's the matter?"

"you said their leader objected to our project." madara straightened his back, slowly turning away from the forests below. "would they come here and..." he trailed off, but she understood enough.

"they don't need to know you used their scrolls."

madara lowered his voice. "just how far are you willing to betray them?"

"it's not betrayal if I only use what's within my disposal." hashirama shrugged, leaning closer to him. "the scrolls have been in our possession for daily tasks like moving timber and wild games. it makes sense if you use them too; we're family now-"

"careful."

at his sharp tone, she bit her lip and waited until he finished sensing the rocky hill. he glared briefly at her.

"i didn't speak of it-"

"it's the same! need i to remind you we're not yet..."

"husband and wife?"

madara groaned aloud.

"...sorry."

he was taken aback by her apology. madara reached for her loose strands, slipping them behind her ear as she glanced at him.

"i know you're impatient, hashi," he whispered. "me too, but i can't make you live in a shabby hut. it'd be too much for three people."

"i just missed you."

madara stood, then moved away from the edge. "you can have one kiss-"

hashirama scrambled to her feet, excitedly running to him like a puppy.

"-on the cheek."

slowly she leaned in, only to land her kiss on the corner of his lips. it was quick, yet quite unexpected enough to make him flustered.

"on. the. cheek!"

"it's technically still your cheek... are you blushing?"

rubbing his neck, madara hissed, "i'm not-!" yet as he spoke, his skin had turned as red as the sky.

"i wonder what would you look like if i really kissed you on the lips." hashirama covered her mouth, holding back a giggle.

"don't even think-"

"well, too late now."

"my revenge will be great, senju hashirama," he vowed, his sharingan glinted in the sunset. "prepare yourself."

with mischief danced on her eyes, she replied, "i'm always prepared." then hashirama added voicelessly, "anata."

* * *

.

.

 **madara got his revenge at chapter 4 of mahkota daun/a crown of shadows**


	35. home

**highschool au**

* * *

.

.

their homework laid discarded between them, their pages creaked as wind landed on the table from the gap in the window. afternoon was nearly reaching its end. the silence was brief, but for the only two people in the classroom, it stretched beyond measure.

"...i'm sorry?" the girl muttered, still shocked and confused. her mechanical pencil hung in the air, just moments ago it danced on her book, leaving marks in the shape of enigmatic equations.

her companion, a boy, kept his gaze fixed on her face. his chair that was balanced on its rear legs landed with a soft thump. "a student from another class confessed to you this morning."

she lowered her hand, saying nothing to his revelation.

"i heard you refused him," he continued, "because of me."

her lips parted and closed.

"so be my girlfriend."

her book was closed with a thud. "i... madara, he made that assumption." her gaze was fixed on the book cover, unable to look ahead.

"tell me if he's wrong, hashirama."

she took a deep breath, and glanced up. "may i... may i ask why do you confess now?"

madara leaned forward, his elbows stopping the pages from turning. "he's not the first boy you rejected. i know what people been saying about us."

she slipped her hair behind her ear. "i don't know how do i say this..."

"if you're saying no-"

hashirama frantically shook her head, and the words flowed out from her mouth. "it's-it's just... i like having you as a friend, despite what people always say about us. i like what we have now. i like that i can be myself around you. i like that you can be so open with me. i don't want to change that. i don't want to change anything-" her voice turned into a sob.

madara's hand fidgeted, torn between reaching and remaining. he stopped halfway the table, slowly pulling back before she realized he had crossed the space between their homework.

"everyone i rejected stopped being my friend," she said, her eyes glimmering with tears. "i don't want to lose you too. not when we only have one last term in high school."

they both knew what that means. graduation. separation. fully walking into adulthood. for hashirama, it means she'd pursue a seat in an urban university. for madara, it means working in their rural hometown.

"i understand. friends grow apart." madara nodded. "even lovers too."

the silence returned.

"love, huh..." hashirama looked into his eyes. "is that how you feel about me?"

"i realized it, yes. that's the reason why i gave all the valentine chocolate i got to izuna except yours. that's why i never felt jealous when a boy asked you out-because i know what your answer would be, and that afterwards you'd rant about him to me."

hashirama blinked. her hands slowly reaching to cover her mouth.

"that's the reason why you're the first i call when my mother passed away. your presence always comforts me. like home-"

this time, it was hashirama's hand that crossed the table to grab his.

"you feel like home to me too."

his smile broke into a chuckle. "well, at least that's mutual."

"being girlfriend and boyfriend sounds weird." she squeezed his hand gently. "maybe... maybe we can continue being a home for each other?"

he placed his free hand atop hers. "until graduation?"

"until as long as time let us be," hashirama assured. "in the meantime, if you want to do boyfriend girlfriend things, i'm willing to try."

"like what, watching a movie together? we've been hanging out together since we were twelve."

"i mean holding hands. like this. as long as we're happy with it."

"and what else?" he asked, teasing.

she laughed. "you're the one who confessed, you think of it yourself!"

instead of offering another suggestion, madara leaned further forward to kiss her forehead.

"how about this?"

hashirama's cheeks turned redder. "...i like that."

that day, madara wished he could fold distances to go home to her every day.


	36. crownverse - of pregnancy and paperwork

**set in crownverse**

* * *

.

.

"what was that...?"

madara closed their bedroom door behind his back. "just drunk men arguing and fighting to the woods. i sent them back to the main road." moonlight fell on the outline of his body as he circled the futon, and lay down.

"it happens quite often lately..." hashirama stifled a yawn. "many sake houses open until late night. do you think we should limit their hours...?"

"i'd agree if it wouldn't incur protests from the hyuuga." madara found her waist, pulling his wife closer to him. "sake brings good profit for konoha, it keeps people happy too. we just need to deal with the drunks."

"Assigning anbu-?"

"they're for outside threat. this is non-lethal. a... team, made of various clansmen without masks are more suitable. non-hard approach, to negotiate rather than to punish. genin can do supervised day patrol... why are you grinning?"

hashirama shook her head. "nothing."

"that's not nothing." madara held her chin. "speak."

"i like it when you're like this," hashirama whispered, then added after seeing his confused face, "looking so excited planning for konoha."

"did i...?"

"you sounded happy. i'm happy." she hugged him.

"happy enough to add another baby?" madara teased.

"nice try but i'm too tired," hashirama mumbled. "paperwork and pregnancy don't go well together..."

yet few weeks later the hokage had both going at the same time. no, she regretted nothing at all, because while taking breaks hashirama could watch madara reviewing reports from their trembling subordinates, and he looked dangerously attractive while working.

although at this rate, she was sure she'd be pregnant again before their newest kid could walk.


	37. rinse, maybe repeat

**canonverse**

* * *

.

.

"listen, madara, husband dearest... i love you, but please wash your hair."

"i told you, i did-"

"getting drenched in a downpour didn't count," hashirama nearly shouted, "and that was three days ago."

his eyebrows furrowed, and his hands left the blanket. "you never complained before."

"before," she repeated. "but i really can't sleep near stinky hair tonight, please...? i know you just got home and tired and-"

"are you alright?"

she wasn't, he could tell. even in their dimly lit room, madara could spot dried ink on her fingers and cheek. her eyes were puffy as well. how many nights she spent lacking proper sleep? a shinobi could stay sleepless for nights, but they still needed rest like any other human.

hashirama gave a weak nod. "there's soap in the bathhouse."

madara stood. "come along then."

the bathhouse was empty that late night, so they could use a small room for themselves. after madara started fire and warmed the space, hashirama took a bowl of water to clean her face and hands. madara dipped himself in the wooden tub, while she sat on a stool, absentmindedly taking his tangled hair.

"i wish you could be home more often," hashirama said, half whispering, as she detangled his hair.

"i have nothing to do here." madara started to wash his scalp, but she stopped him, then did it herself.

hashirama's fingers gently massaged his scalp, pulling his hair back. "nothing, really?"

"i... oh, that's the spot..." whatever answer he had was momentarily forgotten. her touch almost lulled him to sleep. he fend off that desire by watching her working, her face was in daze yet determined.

hashirama finally left him after she rinsed his hair. madara finished his bath, then dried his hair using suiton to draw out the water. it did feel fresher, and his hair seemed to stick out wider than before.

madara decided he could get used to this.

"now you look better." hashirama pulled him into a hug at the entrance. "smell better too."

he couldn't push himself to pull away. she felt so... serene. instead he carried her home with both hands.

"i can help you in the office tomorrow," he offered once they're back on the futon.

she only gave him an affirmative hum, quickly dozing off as soon as she hit the pillow.

and as madara lay beside her, he realized hashirama's hair smelled like a forest in summer.


	38. do you even bleed?

**sort of reincarnation au**

* * *

.

.

the world slowed down.

hashirama's grip on the hospital blanket tightened. she knew this is it. the dreaded time has come.

the door opened, closed, locked. she lifted her face, and immediately confused.

"i thought you hated law enforcers," she remarked, "now you're one."

"is that what you say to an old friend?" the police replied, barely showing any hint of amusement in his partially hidden face. "i'll be quick; there are reporters outside waiting for official statement."

"...why? they aren't-weren't famous or such."

"there were witnesses recording videos of you walking away from the exploded car unscathed, hashi." he played it on his phone. "we've taken them down, but copies could circulate quickly. you know how this world works."

"don't tell me you killed them, madara."

"that hurts coming from you." madara turned it off. "i'm just looking out for you. see if you could truly live in peace knowing what fate has in store for us."

"and i had it all. a good fiance, nice future in-laws... why does it so hard to just grow old in peace?" her shoulders shook as she cried.

madara patted her back awkwardly. "do you need to disappear?" he asked once she calmed down.

she stared at him questioningly. "you mean like... witness protection program?"

"not running from your responsibilities."

"i'm tired." hashirama wiped her face. "just take me away."

without a word, he carried her from the bed. hashirama hugged him as madara walked through the hospital, past the frozen doctors, nurses, reporters eager for a juicy story outside...

* * *

.

two hours later, the police declared the woman who survived the car bomb died at the hospital.

but nobody could remember what name they were supposed to carve in her grave.


End file.
